


Not Your Sidekick

by harlesq



Category: Batman and Harley Quinn (2017), Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series, DCU (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: "like you've never made out with a super villain", Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, dick grayson is now nightwing, fuck batman, fuck mistah j, harley is on her own bitches, oof, warning: joker is in the intro, we also might like each other ???, we dont wanna be sidekicks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-05-15 01:53:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19285696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harlesq/pseuds/harlesq
Summary: The one and only Harley Quinn has been thrown out by dear old Mistah J yet again, and she's not really sure if he'll ever come back for her-- or if she even wants him to.Meanwhile, little Boy-Wonder ain't so little anymore and has run away from home-- not wanting to play Batman's games any longer.Crossing paths in Crime Alley on this fateful night, Harley leads Dick(now wanting to be called Nightwing) on a somewhat wild goose chase in which she brings Nighty to Jokes' supposed hide-out.Along the way they realize they feel a lot less alone together, spilling secrets of the past and choose to spend the night with each other-- only to go their separate ways in the morning, Harley off to Brooklyn and Nighty off to Bludhaven.Though this is a meeting the two will remember forever, it's not a match made to last, and that might be the saddest part of it all.





	1. An Actually Pretty Likely Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Adapted from RP to Novel by HarlesQ  
> Story by harlesq#4698 and jerro567#9401

A beat up old hatchback sped down the narrow Gotham City streets.  
It was practically the middle of the night, the cloudy skyline was tinged a hellish red-- almost poetically fitting for the crime ridden city.  
Speaking of, the _Clown Prince of Crime_ himself happened to be one of the occupants of the hatchback currently leaving skid marks down Crime Alley.  
The eccentric clown stood up through the sunroof, his laughter permeating the foggy night. This frightening laugh was cut short just as a GCPD car pulled out from an alley, lights flashing and sirens blaring.  
The Joker’s wide grin flipped upside down and a guttural growl escaped his red-stained lips.  
“Good goin punkin’-- now ya got the coppers after us!”  
As he ducked back down inside the car he seemed to be looking around, forming a quick plan of a daring escape.  
“I’m sorry, Puddin’! I’m going as fast as I can!” Harley Quinn cried as she gripped the steering wheel at 10 and 2. Under her breath she begged her old baby to go any bit faster as her gaze shifted back-and-forth between the road ahead and the cop car in the rear-view mirror. In the eyes of Mistah J, our poor Harley had _really_ messed up this time.  
With that, the Joker sighed ever-so sarcastically, “Well, you know what they say, if ya want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.”  
Harley flinched as he crawled over the center console and practically sat in her lap. She tried her best to keep control of the car, but he proceeded to yank the steering wheel from her hands.  
“P-puddin! Just let me get--” Harley’s pleas were cut short by Joker pushing the driver’s side door open, not minding the fact they were going about 80 mph.  
He then shoved her out onto the road without a moment’s hesitation-- “And don’t call me _puddin_.” He grumbled as he shut the door and further pushed the old hatchback’s limits, speeding off into the Gotham night. 

The following cop either didn’t see Harley fail miserably at a tuck-n-roll, or he just didn’t care.  
They drove right past her, rather continuing to follow the clown as he swerved all over.  
Harley hiccuped and tasted blood at the corner of her mouth. She wiped at it, leaving a smear of crimson along her bright red glove.  
“Well that’s not gunna be fun tah wash out,” she lamented with a groan. Harley then took a deep breath, and did her best to assess the situation.  
_Eithah Mistah J is really, really mad at me-- OR it was an accident?_  
_He probably didn’t mean tah push me outta the car… He was just angry-- he reacted too fast._  
_My Puddin’ will come back for me. Right?_  
Whether these were all her own thoughts or a swirling mixture from “the voices,” who’s to say?  
Either way it was too much for her to bear. She shook her head side-to-side in an attempt to get it to stop, but instead it just further increased the bitch of a headache that was coming on.  
So there our poor little Harley Quinn sat. In the middle of the road, after having been literally _thrown out_ by her love for the last time and trying her best not to cry. 

At this same moment in time, our little _Boy-Wonder_ (now considerably grown up) stood in the very alleyway from which the GCPD car would speed out of.  
Whether he had followed the cop or if it was simply serendipity was a question for the universe, the questions that permeated Dick’s mind, you see, were much more existential.  
_Can one even just quit being Robin?_  
_Would Batman come looking for me? Would Barbara ever forgive him?_  
_...Would I ever forgive Bruce?_  
In the eyes of Robin, the caped crusader had _really_ messed up this time.  
He let his desperate clawing need for justice overtake any concern for the safety of not only himself, but Batgirl.  
Barbara Gordon--the commissioner's daughter-- nearly died tonight. If she would have gotten hurt it would have been on Bruce Wayne. On Batman, Gotham’s supposed hero.  
Dick scoffed at the thought of Batman being any kind of hero. With the roll of his eyes, his gaze shifted down to his hand. He could still feel the ache of his knuckles from where his fist had made contact with Batman’s jaw.  
For a moment he felt the urge to turn around-- to run back to the Batcave.  
He could pick up his cape, apologize to Bruce, and things would just go back to normal.  
As normal as they ever were for the costumed vigilantes of Gotham City-- for the family they had become.  
With that Dick could almost hear Alfred’s voice in his head,  
_“He’s just like his father, sir.”_  
_\--You never knew his father._  
_“I wasn’t referring to John Grayson, Master Bruce.”_  
Dick couldn’t handle the pang of regret any longer, in an act of defiance he ripped the R emblem from his shirt. Then, giving in to the feelings of an angsty teen run away from home, he threw it on the ground and stopped on the little yellow patch until it was beyond recognition.  
The Robin was now no longer. Dick was sick of being Batman’s tool-- his _sidekick._  
He was just about to rip off the domino mask when the quiet night erupted in sound. 

The lights and sirens of the cop car before him burst into life, just barely drowning out laughter.  
_His_ laughter-- the one and only Joker.  
It seemed to be just too perfect. If Dick could catch him now!? He would be able to prove his worth to Batman. He would show them that he’s not just a kid known for following him around.  
No, the Robin was a _real_ hero.  
Dick rushed out onto the street, just in time to catch a flash of red as it tumbled out from the get-away car. By that point the cop was already in hot pursuit, the Joker luring them further out into the night.  
When Dick realized his already exhausted muscles wouldn’t be able to keep up with a car chase he was ultimately ready to admit defeat-- that is, until the blob of red came into view as a person, a girl. _The_ Harley Quinn.  
“Of _course_ I get the side-kick.” Dick muttered through gritted teeth, already making his way to where she sat in the middle of the one-way street.


	2. Who's in Control?

With the Robin’s approach, Harley made no motion to acknowledge him.  
She sat on her knees, examining the damage to her gloves then promptly removing them and placing them on the ground beside her.  
“It’s prob’ly time tah get rid of these old guys anyway,” she mumbled through her sniffles of tears.  
Dick waited a moment before revealing himself, gathering as much courage as possible.  
Yes, Harley was the _side-kick_ , but in all honesty she was just as dangerous, if not more-so than Joker. He tried to remember all of the “rules” Bruce set for dealing with Harley Quinn.  
Dick and Barbara were constantly being quizzed on Gotham’s crime scene, from the infamous Clown Prince of Crime to the lowest thug-- they had to be prepared for any situation.  
He remembered that she was once a doctor of psychiatry, having the Joker as a patient for mere months before falling madly in love with him and further garnering Bruce’s title of _a loose-canon._ Other than that Dick’s memory wasn’t serving him very well, then again-- who was he to care what Bruce’s rules were anyway?  
He was on his own now, and rules were only made to be broken.  
The ex-Robin then cleared his throat before speaking in a cocky tone, “Y’know, I’m pretty familiar with circuses-- and last time I checked, there wasn’t one due in town for a long while.”

Harley scoffed at the comment, finally taking a moment to look up at the figure beside her.  
“If it isn’t _Boy-Wonder, _” she smiled lightly, shifting to face him-- only for the movement to send a flash of pain down her side. She winced, but didn’t acknowledge it.__  
Though he didn’t comment, Dick noticed her wince. She was injured, probably having taken a hell of a tumble from the car. He could easily take her down-- probably-- hopefully.  
Harley then gave him a once-over and pursed her lips, “Looks like your leotard took a bit of a beating.”  
She motioned to the missing _R_ with her right hand, the palm had a bit of road rash but wasn’t bleeding too bad. Her mind was racing, even if her outward appearance seemed nonchalant.  
Harley tried to come up with a means of her own escape. She didn’t want to end up back at Blackgate-- or worse, Arkham.  
Dick’s expression dropped, surprisingly still an easy read for Harley--even from behind a domino mask. “It’s not a leot-- whatever. I’m going to need you to come with me.”  
He tried to speak with as much authority as possible, but it really came off as endearing.  
Harley watched with amusement, “Uh-uh sweetcheeks, I ain’t going nowhere.”  
Dick tightened his jaw. Though he was hoping to avoid a fist-fight, he knew he would have to threaten her to at least make an inkling of progress.  
“First, don’t call me sweetcheeks. Second, we can do this the easy way, or the _I knock you out with escrima sticks_ way.” He began reaching for his weapons of choice, only to remember he threw everything down at the Manor.  
His cape, belt, and all his weapons sat in a pile in front of the batmobile.  
Dick mentally groaned then tried to cover up his mistake, “Change of plans-- please do this the easy way. I don’t want to have to take you to Blackgate.” 

Harley continued to dismantle her outfit, disregarding every word from Robin.  
“I ain’t going nowhere’s with no-one’s-- nada.” She muttered, as she took off her white wrist cuffs one by one; then her hat, bells jingling as she did so, to let out blonde bangs and pigtails.  
Dick sighed, trying to get Harley to cooperate seemed nearly impossible.  
He attempted to get himself into a fighting stance, but quickly realized the motion would be in vain. Rather, he resigned to watch Harley become more Harleen little by little.  
She definitely looked different without the whole get up, especially the hat.  
Almost like a regular person-- if regular people wore clown make-up and a domino mask, that is.  
“Come on, I can take you to Arkham’s infirmary.” He offered.  
“I don’t want to hurt you any more than you already are-- hell, I’ll tell them to give you pillows that smell less like pee if you tell me where Joker went.”  
Harley almost laughed out loud at his mediation attempts, “Pfft, that’s a nice offer, kid.”  
“I--I’m not a kid.” Dick was quickly losing confidence.“Listen, we can work something out.”  
At this point, he couldn’t believe he was trying to negotiate with a super-villain.  
He really didn’t want to fight her now. Especially since she would likely take him to the Joker as a hostage if he lost-- but he couldn’t just let her get away.  
_Now Bruce’s rules seemed to flash through his mind all at once-- Don’t reason with her, don’t even talk to her. If you get too close she’ll kill you without hesitation. You should be more afraid if she doesn’t attack first. And never-ever give her anything she wants._  
“Please, Harleen.” The ex-Robin continued, now blatantly disregarding everything Batman had taught him.  
“Look,” Harley began, almost cocky in tone.  
“I can tell ya where Mistah J went right now, if--and only if,” she paused, looking up at him as she took of the black mask, further revealing bright blue eyes shrouded in smudged black makeup. “You promise, right now, not ta take me to eith-ah of those places.”  
Dick didn’t know what to make of the ultimatum.  
He tried to appear as unfazed as possible by the change in her demeanor, but it was hard considering the fact that the tech in his mask told him that her heartrate hadn’t even picked up slightly. It seemed that grown-up _Boy Wonder_ couldn’t even scare the Joker’s henchwench. The Harley Quinn remained eerily calm.  
Harley then held out her left hand, “Pinky promise.”  
Her tone was deadly serious.  
“You know I can’t do that, Quinzel” Dick said with a sigh. It would be satisfying to bring her in, but the chance to get Joker would be the sweetest revenge. It would be justice, fair and square. He’d beaten Joker before--with Batman’s help, of course, but that was then and this is now.  
He could really bring in the fucking Clown Prince of Crime.  
Harley raised her eyebrows and reached her arm out even further, wiggling her pinky.  
“What? You can’t make a pinky promise with little old Harley Quinn?”  
She was teasing him. “What’s that--like, a rule made up by the Batman?”  
Outright teasing him. And it was working.  
Dick was well aware of the fact that she was trying to get into his head, and on any other day he wouldn’t have let her, but… today was _different. _It was ultimately the worst day of his life.__  
He basically lost his family all over again. He didn’t want to-- he _couldn’t_ deal with the psychological manipulation of Dr. Quinn right now.  
“I don’t follow his rules anymore. I don’t _need_ to follow his rules anymore.”  
In truth he would still do his best to abide by Bruce’s standards-- especially rule number one: _never kill._ Even though this seemed to be a rule Bruce didn’t mind breaking when it came to turning children into weapons. No, the Batman wouldn’t shoot Joker, but he would put a nine-year-old in a room with him. Dick wouldn’t do either. He had to be _better._  
“Aw,” Harley cooed. “On your own now? I’m so proud of ya, puddin’.”  
She gave him a goofy smile, one that was all-knowing, but goofy nonetheless.  
Dick visibly winced as she called him _“puddin.”_ Everyone knew it was her pet-name of choice for the Joker. It was obvious to Dick that she was using that as a manipulation tactic, to make him think of the Joker and all of the times he tortured little Robin. Then again, Harley had likely tortured him just as much by now.  
That said, Harley was practically basking in the Boy-Wonder’s mental turmoil. One of the few tricks she’d learned from all her time with the Joker was how he was always in control of the situation. The trick to it was that you just couldn’t let your opponent know it. With a newfound confidence she further reached her pinky out to him, waiting patiently for his finger to wrap around hers in promise.  
“Fine.” Dick said flatly.  
“Pinky promise.” He wrapped his finger around hers; instantly regretting the decision, but he had to show Bruce that he could be better. “But you try anything afterwards, you’re going straight to Blackgate.”  
Harley was beaming, her signature psychotically sweet smile spread across her battered and bruised features. “Blackgate, shmackgate. Ya can’t break a pinky promise.”  
At that point Dick realized just how awful of a position he had put himself in, but there was nothing he could do about it now, right? Of course, he could try to call Bruce or Barbara for back-up. Though he was now truly unsure if they would show up to help him out of this mess.  
He swallowed hard, unsure how to proceed-- though as Harley attempted to stand he was almost certain that she was going to fall over. She might be worse off than he thought.  
Harley huffed as her knees made contact with the pavement, noticing just how scratched up they were. Both legs had gaping holes in her tights where she could see the dried blood already scabbing.  
She knew she couldn’t let Boy-Wonder know how badly she was hurt, she’s walked off worse injuries-- _right?_  
For a moment Dick just waited for Harley to figure it out herself, yet his desire to do the right thing or whatever ultimately overtook him as he offered a hand to help her to her feet.  
“Thank ya, kind sir.” Harley commented in a mock polite tone. She took a moment to get her bearings--just in case things didn’t go as expected--holding her mix-matched red and black pieces close to her chest.  
Dick brushed off her sarcasm, instead stating in a voice as commanding as possible, “Now tell me where he is.”  
Harley looked to the ex-Robin, doing her best to read the expression behind the mask, then out into the Gotham night. She seemed to take all the time in the world before she reached her free hand out to point in the direction that her hatchback sped off in and said ever-so seriously,  
“He went that way.”


	3. No one makes jokes in Gotham City

Dick crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow.   
She had to be joking, right?   
That’s, like, what they _do._   
“Unless you really want to go back to Arkham, you’re gonna need to do better than that, Dr. Quinzel.”   
Harley was more than a little thrown off by him calling her _doctor._ Sure he’d been using her legal name this whole time--the Batman always has too, but to call her _doctor_ was something else entirely. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, so she simply pretended to ignore it.   
“But you _promised._ ” She whined innocently as possible while stifling a giggle.   
The Joker could be anywhere in Gotham by now-- honestly he could have reached Bludhaven or Star City. _That way_ was definitely not a valid response, Harley must know that.   
In truth, the one thing Harley Quinn knew well was that the masked super-lame-o’s always misjudged her ability to be, exactly as Batsy says, _a loose-canon._   
“Not good enough.” The ex-Robin deadpanned.   
At that Harley’s stifled giggles turned into rolling on the floor, laugh out loud guffaws.   
Dick Grayson sighed and shook his head, he really thought he had been getting somewhere.   
At least he would be able to bring in the “clown princess” before leaving Gotham behind for Bludhaven--before leaving the Robin behind for whatever else was next.   
He grabbed her wrist, holding it tightly enough that she couldn’t easily get out, but without trying to overdo it. “Laugh it up, Quinn. You’re gonna have plenty of time to laugh all you want from behind bars.”   
He tried to pull her along in whatever direction seemed to be the easiest, but Harley held her ground. Dick realized this would be a lot easier with cuffs, or wire for that matter-- or a damn Batmobile. “Maybe they won’t immediately throw you in solitary this time. _If_ you behave.”   
He continued to poke the bear with a stick, “You know, it’s funny considering you spent so long studying to get a job at Arkham, and you’ve spent longer as an inmate than a doctor. Some shrink you are.”   
With that Harley’s laughter cut off in exchange for haunting silence, her face now stoic as stone.   
“Guess ya didn’t like my joke, _Boy Wonder._ ” Her voice was dripping with malice.   
She then attempted to yank her arm back, but the ex-Robin had quite a grip. Harley’s blue eyes once bright now seethed with hatred, her expression deadly serious.   
“And I don’t like when people try ta break a promise.”  
Emphasis on the deadly part.   
Yet, Dick Grayson didn’t back down. He finally looked at her without a trace of fear. He was absolutely exhausted, and didn’t have time to play games with the knock-off Joker-- and he _definitely_ didn’t have room for “being murdered” on his agenda for the day.   
“First of all, _you_ promised you’d tell me where the Joker went--”  
Harley cut him off with an exasperated cry, “He _went_ that--”  
Then Dick cut her off right back, “Unless you tell me a specific location, you’re going to Blackgate right now.” He then let go of her arm, hoping to use that as leverage for his next offer.   
“If you tell me the truth, I’ll let you go-- no joke.” 

Harley brought her wrist up to her chest and rubbed it in the spot where he had held it. She thought for a moment about what to do, in all honesty she had no idea where the Joker went.   
Well, okay, she had _some_ ideas. But their previous destination of choice was one only she knew how to get to, so it wasn’t a likely candidate seeing as how he forcibly shoved her out of her own moving vehicle. Harley’s mind raced trying to come up with a plan now that she was alone.   
As her mind worked double time, she made a mistake she often does-- talking through her plan _out loud_. Her voice was low, as if she whispering in someone’s ear, or talking to the other voices in her head for that matter. “Hell, I’ve had Batsy tied upside-down over piranhas for crying out loud! I should be able to talk my way around Boy-Wonder over here!”   
She huffed trying to figure out why that plan had worked so almost-flawlessly-- though her process was stopped short as Boy Wonder himself, cleared his throat.   
Dick was honestly kind of shocked, how she had managed that was honestly impossible to say. Yet, what was the most shocking was the fact that she completely disregarded his presence next to her and said that aloud.   
Harley spun her head to face him, her eyes wide in mock-horror that she indeed said that aloud.   
Dick shook his head and brought a hand to his temple in frustration, “Can you at least, just like, stop calling me Boy Wonder?”   
Now Harley’s look of feigned surprise was honest, that’s all he had to say to that?  
The ex-Robin broke eye contact, bringing his hand up further and awkwardly running it through his choppy black hair. “I’m not a kid anymore… If you couldn’t tell.”   
Harley let the act go for a moment, speaking now out of genuine interest and somewhere in there, a hint of respect. “Then if you’re not Robin anymore, what am I supposed to call ya, kid--sir--uh, _bucko_?”  
Sure, she had a little trouble getting that last bit out, but she was trying to be polite in the only way she knew how, and to be honest? That was enough.   
Dick’s expression went blank for a moment. Quite frankly, he wasn’t entirely sure. He knew he would have to tell her an alias, but he hadn’t yet had time to come up with his own clever name. Something that would separate himself from Batman, but would still keep up the whole “bird” thing-- as he was a _Flying Grayson_ after all.   
“Night...wing. Yeah, call me _Nightwing._ ”   
A slight genuine smile crept up on Harley’s face.   
“Nightwing,” she repeated. “That’s fun.” Harley then added casually, and she truly meant it.   
Dick hesitated, unsure what to make of that response. It was kind of… sweet.   
He grimaced, then shook it off, wanting to just get a move on now. “Uh-- so, where did Joker-- ah, where are we going, then?”   
Harley had realized by now why her plan to trap Batsy had worked oh-so long ago.  
It was the lure of the Joker, even if it was fake.   
_Oh Nighty, you’ve really set yourself up for this one._   
With that, Harley Quinn couldn’t help but laugh out loud.


	4. Find comfort in the warmth of burning bridges

“Well, we ain’t gunna go very far if ya intend to walk there, my friend.” Harley said casually. She then put on an exaggerated pout, repeating, “Not far at all.”  
She was really hoping they weren’t going to have to walk through the city in the dead of night, that would take every last bit of energy she had left and she kinda needed it if she was really going to pull off this plan solo.  
Harley didn’t even think about the fact that she had called him a _friend_.  
Freudian slip, maybe? Who’s to say…

Dick sighed and shook his head, he honestly didn’t catch the comment either.  
It really had been a long night for the both of them.

So it seemed neither actually _wanted_ to walk, but it’s not like he could drive THE Harley Quinn around in a beat up car he’s had since college.  
A wash of animosity towards Bruce came over him, all stemming from the single detail of not having the Batmobile.  
He gave the poor ex-doctor before him a once over, concluding she was in a much worse shape than him, he realized that he was going to have to be the _hero_ here. With that thought, he closed his eyes for a second before scooping her up in his arms.  
In that moment it was as if all the air had left her lungs, Harley’s gasp was audible.  
She had to admit, she loved to be carried--especially bridal style. It was the hopeless romantic in her.  
Dick grimaced, “Can you, uh, _not_ tell Batman about this?”  
Harley had to stifle a giggle, but she shook her head in agreement. She wouldn’t tell Batsy, and to prove it she pantomimed zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key.  
He then narrowed his eyes, “Okay. Tell me where to go.”  
Harley thought to make a joke about how she _obviously_ couldn’t tell Nighty where to go, as she had just sealed her lips shut! She decided not to though, life’s no fun with people who just don’t get the joke. “You know where the old amusement park is?”  
Pressing his lips into a flat line, Dick nodded curtly.  
 _Of course_ he knew where Amusement Mile was, the circus used to be held there-- it was where he watched his parents die, it was where Batman took him in. On top of that, it was where he’d been tortured by the clown himself too many times to count. _How predictable._

He began walking, Harley not-so heavy in his arms-- though the emotional weight was already beginning to take its toll.  
“If you mean the one where you and Joker hung me off a rollercoaster and spun a wheel to determine whether or not you’d cut the rope, therefore letting me plummet to my death when I was _twelve_ then… Yeah, I know the place.”  
Harley looked into the ex-Robin's cold blue eyes, then wrapping her arms around his neck with a token sweetly psychotic smile plastered on her face, she replied, “Aww, hope there’s no hard feelins’ Nighty.”  
Dick rolled his eyes, but decided not to give her a snarky retort; rather, intending to walk the rest of the way in silence.  
Harley opened her mouth to fill the quiet, then realized she had no idea what else to say. So, she just lay her head down on Nightwing’s chest and listened to his heart beat as they walked through the dark Gotham night. As their breathing began to match pace she realized how awfully tired she was.  
Tired of keeping up the persona, tired of the games-- and yes, physically tired as well.  
The walk from the edge of Crime Alley to Amusement Mile would be about 25 minutes, and dear Harley Quinn made no attempt to stay awake for it.  
She simply drifted, in and out. Finding comfort in Boy-Wonder, now all grown up.  
She knew she was safe, for now at least.


	5. Comical genius--or just plain stupid?

When they arrived on the scene at the decrepit amusement park, Dick hesitated.  
He hated this place.  
Carnivals and circuses brought back more bad memories than he could count on fingers-- especially this particular one. The one that used to house Haly’s Circus every time they came to Gotham City.  
If the Zucco’s hadn’t come after them-- if his parents-- if what happened all those years ago, never _did_ this park would probably still be open. Maybe.  
Or not. Maybe the murder of his parents had nothing to do with it.  
Though one thing he was certain of, if it weren’t for this park Dick Grayson would have never become Robin. He would never have met Bruce, or Alfred--or Babs. He would never have had a second chance at a family. 

Dick heaved a heavy sigh, then looked down at the sleeping Clown Princess of Crime in his arms. He considered how easily she trusted him enough to just sleep. Not that the super-villainess needed to _trust_ him, in all honesty she was probably just exhausted. Who knows the last time she got a good night’s sleep…  
Harley looked almost peaceful--but before Dick could further contemplate, he tried waking her.  
“Alright, we’re here.” He said matter-of-factly.

Harley stirred in his arms, but made no effort to wake up.  
Dick rolled his eyes, then did his best to set her down gently.  
A sleepy Harley stood beside Nightwing, rubbing her eyes and stretching like they had all the time in the world.  
“Now--where’s Joker?” Dick raised an eyebrow. He was trying his best to remain calm, unsure if the jitters he felt were out of anxiety or excitement at coming face-to-face with the Joker all on his own. _No more Mr Sidekick,_ he reminded himself. This was all to prove to Bruce that little “boy-wonder” could hold his own. That he didn’t need anybody but himself. 

Harley stretched her arms out to either side and let out a big yawn, then giggled to herself.  
“That’s the joke,” She managed between slight bursts of laughter. 

Dick was not amused.  
He scanned the area with the tech in his mask, but it was too big to get a good read. There were plenty of places for the Joker--and his gang-- to be hiding.  
If he wanted to escape undetected, he could. Yet, the Joker was never one to try and escape.  
Dick resigned to believe that this was all an elaborate trap, but-- since he _knew_ it was a trap, it would be it infinitely less… _trap-y_. Or so he thought. 

Without a word to Nightwing, Harley started walking off in the direction of the wooden rollercoaster in the back of the park.  
Dick huffed then began following her a few paces behind, still considering the _trap-y-ness_ of the situation. He half expected Bruce to come in on the coms, wondering what he’s doing that way-- but there was nothing but static. Dick knew better, but he left them on with some slight hope that maybe Bruce or Barb would want to apologize.  
He gritted his teeth at the thought and tried his best to tell himself that it didn’t matter. _Nightwing_ was about to take down the biggest crime boss in all of Gotham--he hoped. 

As they came up on the derelict wooden coaster, a wide psychotically-sweet expression snuck up on Harley’s features.  
That coaster was always able to make her smile. 

The nerves that Dick had been feeling upon their entrance to the park only heightened, he rubbed his wrists slightly having immediately been drawn back into their past. Joker and Harley had tied him to this coaster once before, and he _really_ didn’t want to try it again.  
“So, where is he?” he questioned into the stale air. 

Harley’s eyes widened, she feigned a worried expression as she doubled back to clap a hand over Nightwing’s mouth. “Shhh!”  
Dick grimaced, then raised his hands in pantomimed surrender. He would keep quiet.  
She then removed her hand and beckoned him over to where there were some broken pieces in the latticework. Harley fondly remembered the last thing her dad had taught her before the cops got him for real.  
Good old Slick Nick Quinzel’s little girl. Taught to hide in the latticework of the coaster on Coney Island because ‘the shadows prove good cover if ya ever need tah hide.’  
Harley smiled at the last happy memory-- then her expression turned vengeful as she recalled it as the worst night of her life, as well.  
The birth of Harley Quinn. Not by name though, she did have to give some credit to Mistah J for that one. Rather, the birth of the tough-Brooklyn-cookie and the reason she loves her dear hammer so much. Which is exactly what she was expecting to find hidden _somewhere_ underneath this coaster. If only she could remember…  
She climbed into the lattice, expecting Nightwing to follow. Which he did, reluctantly. 

Harley led them through the mock hallway underneath the track.  
They passed tarps and dried up paint buckets. She became sure that hidden under one of them would be her hammer, so with each one they passed she kicked around the faded work tools and upturned the tarp hoping to find her baby. 

“Harley,” Nightwing cautioned. “I don’t see anything in here… Let alone, the Joker.”  
Harley’s expression turned fearful for a moment, she started to panic a little. Realizing now that she really didn’t plan this far.  
“Just trust me,” she said softly as she cast aside the third tarp they’d come across.  
With that her pretend need to be quiet was thrown out the window as she uncovered her hammer.  
She squealed in delight, “Third times ah charm, huh baby!”  
The mallet was about 4 feet in total length, battered and old. She had taken it from the Strong Man’s Test, painted the handle red, added a few diamonds, and… Ta da! It was perfect.  
Harley clumsily picked it up, knocking into the wooden lattice beside her.  
“Oopsie,” she said, shrugging at the slight damage.  
Dick groaned and brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing at his temples.  
“Right, yeah. Trap.” He said curtly. “Joker isn’t really here, is he?”

Harley wouldn’t need her hammer if she was leading him straight to the Joker-- _would she?_  
Which meant that he just carried her from the street, giving her plenty of time to rest before actually fighting him-- and giving her the opportunity to hit her with the big-ass-hammer. Again.  
As much as he hated to admit it, Bruce was right about not trusting people… sometimes.  
“So do you have a long supervillain monologue where you tell me exactly where your bombs are or whatever, and then I cut myself loose before you have some sharks eat me alive in a pool? Or are we just gonna have to fight it out here?” Nightwing asked sarcastically.  
“Personally I prefer the monologue. Really adds character to the situation.” 

Harley knew boy-wonder was cocky, but not that rude.  
She turned to face him with a coy pout, casually tossing her hammer over her shoulder and holding it in her right hand while placing the other on her hip.  
“That’s not my plan, Nighty.” she said, her voice laced with sass. “Nice try though.”  
_What is my plan!?_  
Harley cleared her throat, then continued walking the length of the track. She was sure there was a gate in the latticework somewhere a little further, intended for maintenance and such.  
_Maybe you could lead him to it, then exist ya'self, trapping ol' Nighty on the inside?_  
“Yeah, but then what am I gonna do with 'em once he’s trapped?” she countered her own thought aloud. A habit that’s hard to break when you’re used to talking to yourself-- well, talking to _the voices_ and all.  


She didn’t even think twice about the fact that she said it **out loud** , with Nightwing standing right behind her.


	6. so boy-blunder and a loose-cannon walk into a bar,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies if the formatting is a little different, I switched word processors for the rough drafts and it'd be too much to try to make it look the same as before so let's safely assume chapters will look like this from here on out xoxo

Dick stopped dead in his tracks. Frankly, he was a little shocked,  _ has she never kidnapped anyone remotely capable by herself before? _

He shook his head trying to comprehend how someone--even as crazy as Harley supposedly is, could make such a blunder. 

“Harley… If you’re planning on tricking me into a trap, you probably shouldn’t say that part out loud.” He offered, trying to be as frank as possible. 

Harley froze right where she was standing,  _ shit. Shit shit shit! _

“Honestly, I’m exhausted. Why don’t we just get out of here? I’ll drop you off at Blackgate and then we’ll call it a night.” Dick was pretty much calling his last resort. 

“You and I both know that Ivy or Selina will just break you out, or the Joker will go looking for you and then we’ll have to try this whole thing again some other time. Sound like a plan?”

His patience was waning really thin at this point. 

Having been scanning the area since they arrived and finding no trace of a heartbeat meant the Joker was nowhere to be found. That or Harley finally snapped and killed him, but that was the least likely option. He always had a way of getting back up.  _ Always-- _ then again, she did too. 

 

“No!” Harley’s voice called out in the dark Gotham night, she then continued walking as she spoke. “No Blackgate--not even Arkham. I technicality told ya where the Joker went, so that’s on you-- and I  _ know _ you won’t break a promise.” 

With a fierce pout fixed on her face, she continued looking for the exit gate, then told Nightwing her new plan with as much authority as she could muster. 

“I got my baby,” she patted the top of the mallet, “And now I’m gonna stop by my hidey-hole so’s I can just get a change of clothes. No tricks, no death traps. You’re welcome to come along and…”

She looked over her shoulder to him, “Supervise.  _ If  _ ya find it necessary.”

As much as Nightwing may have tried to hide it, she heard his groan of annoyance and even noticed him pick up a broken piece of pipe off the ground as he resigned to follow her. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from snickering at his makeshift weapon,  _ fine-- you can have a false sense ah defensah-bility.  _

Now this broken piece of pipe wouldn’t nearly be as effective as any of the titanium staff Dick had back at the Batcave, but for now it would have to do. Just as a backup of course, in case Harley decided to try anything…

“Fine.” He agreed, for what reason he really didn’t know. “But, if you try to hurt anyone you’re gonna wind up right back in Arkham--that’s the deal.” Dick couldn’t help but feel just a little sense of accomplishment. As far as he was concerned, it seemed like he had finally done something Batman never could: keep control of  _ loose-canon  _ Harley Quinn. 

“And after tonight,” he continued authoritatively. “The deal’s off-- so, you’d better make whatever it is you’re doing quick” 

He paused for a moment, then added hastily, “Also, please don’t whack me with you  _ baby _ . I’m not a fan.”

“Aw,” Harley cooed with a maniacal giggle. “She don’t mean tah hurt people.” 

Harley couldn’t help but smirk at his candid plea of safety from her hammer. 

Finally she spotted a glint of silver in the lattice work. An old padlock--picked and broken many times over-- held the gate shut. 

She lightly kicked at it, assuming it wouldn’t take much strength to break it further. 

The wall didn’t budge. 

Harley paused, stuck her tongue out for good measure, then swung her hammer at it. 

The gate swung open. 

“See? She comes in handy!” She cried out matter-of-factly.

Dick raised his eyebrows as she stood there, triumphant and proud of her hammer’s brute force. 

Harley then held the mallet out in front of her and blew on it like one would blow smoke from a fired gun. He had to look away, biting his lip to hold back a smile and laugh. 

Even the Boy-Wonder had to admit, Harley really was kind of funny sometimes. She also didnt have any qualms about hanging a teenager over a massive drop to his death--but, hey, nobody’s perfect. Dick quickly regained his composure, clearing his throat as an excuse for his break. It was hard to appear as stoic as he wanted-- as stoic as Bruce. Dick knew he was more vulnerable, the type of guy to crack a joke before a bone, but he couldn’t ignore the danger he was in. 

The Harley Quinn and Nightwing, holding the tensions together in an amusement park filled to the brim with bad memories for both of ‘em-- who really was holding who hostage at this point? Neither were quite sure. 

 

“Can we just get out of here?” Dick finally blurted out after his moment of weakness. 

“Anywhere the Joker’s been just gives me the creeps… Bad memories--well, you know.” 

He wanted to knock himself upside the head,  _ what a wimpy thing to say!  _ Dick had to remind himself that this was the sort of thing Bruce would do. Then again, it was also usually the thing Bruce would do right before he found himself dangling over a pit of piranhas. If Dick wanted to prove he was just as good as Batman, then he had to  _ be _ like Batman-- and chickening out wasn’t the way to do it. 

“Sorry toots, but I’m afraid ya might not be too fond of our next stop then.” Harley said with a shrug, then turned on her heel and walked off in the direction of the  _ Tunnel of Love.  _

“You have  _ got _ to be kidding me.” Dick muttered before begrudgingly following the psycho clown to her honeymoon suite. 


	7. a night in the tun el flo

The  _ Tunnel of Love _ \-- or  _ Tun el f Lo,  _ as the deteriorating sign states-- was somewhere Harley hadn’t been in a very long time and she couldn't help but sigh wistfully as she approached the queue. While Harley didn’t want to be back here without the Joker she knew it was better this way. She would be able to get her things, and not be alone. She had grown-up Boy Wonder to keep her bad thoughts at bay, and maybe she could even do the same for him. 

 

“You know,” Dick cautioned as he followed her close behind. “I’ve been here before too. Before you were even working for Joker.” 

“Oh,” Harley managed to squeak out before swallowing hard. “That so?”

She hoped her tone of voice didn’t betray her air of composure, but that sentence just gave her a solid mind-fuck. Thinking of the Joker before she met him, a poor tortured soul all alone in the world, made her somber. Yet, the wave of expected sadness didn’t come, instead she was stuck repeating the words in her head,  _ “working for Joker.” _

Not  _ with _ him-- or even before  _ falling in love  _ with him, but working  _ for _ him. 

Sure, she knew the rest of the Joker gang just thought of her as a henchwench, but she was special to him, wasn’t she? Couldn’t Nightwing see that? 

Harley swallowed hard once more, before jumping over the railing that separated the standby line from the exit of the ride. As her feet made contact with the pavement on the other side, she felt it at the back of her throat. A different kind of sadness. 

She pushed away the thoughts as best she could and approached the steps without even checking to make sure Nightwing was still following. 

Dick couldn’t help but hesitate before following her over the rail. As much as she may have tried to hide it, he could tell how his words affected her. 

“Uh-- I mean,” he started, as he swiftly cleared the railing. “Before he was thrown in Arkham and you were assigned to his case. Before you got the promotion from shrink to…  _ puddin’ _ .” 

While Dick didn’t know what really went down all the time she was the Joker’s psychiatrist, he did know the cautionary tale told within Bruce’s file on one Doctor Harleen Quinzel. While Bruce didn’t believe the Joker was capable of love, he knew he was able to manipulate anyone he wanted-- even a medical professional, causing her to fall “in love” with him. A perfect sidekick, that was until she got annoying and he kicked her to the curb… literally. 

Harley tightened her grip on the mallet, then slowly walked up the steps as Dick followed close behind. He hoped to provide some form of comfort, if at all possible. 

For a moment it was almost as if the two of them briefly forgot the hostage situation at hand, but that was in fact the current situation and there was no way to ignore it-- even as the metaphorical floodgates of trauma opened up on both of them. 

 

In order to reach the clearing in which Harley had constructed some semblance of a home, they had to walk along the riverbed. By this point all the water that had previously filled the tunnel was dried up, so the only worry was not tripping over the track in the dark. 

The further in they went, the more light seemed to filter in from holes in the soundstage ceiling. If you tried really hard you could imagine what the ride looked like in its prime, and even then it wasn’t that worthwhile. Any of the awful animatronics of swans and romantic scenery that should have been visible were either completely warped or just plain gone, the only decor now being the spray painted laughter along the walls done by,  _ guess who. _

Harley followed the trail of painted red laughter in silence, as Dorthy followed the yellow brick road but in song. She made sure to step around upturned boats as they appeared in the path, imagining they were dead munchkins slain by  _ yours truly. _

Meanwhile, Dick had a hard time keeping himself focused in the silence. He scanned the area over and over and each time it appeared devoid of life just like the first, but it was hard to keep his mind from wandering down a dark path much like the one he seemed to be following the little red-and-black riding hood down.    
When he ran with the Bat, he always tried to keep some sort of dialogue going on between them and once Barbara came along they would play games over the coms, like who could take down the most baddies. Silence may have been Bruce’s game, but it wasn’t Dicks. 

“So…What do you like to do for fun?” He offered, like a putz on an awkward first date. “I mean, when you’re not robbing banks or tying up my friends, that is.”

The random question pulled Harley from her imaginary dance of the dead munchkins, and she couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “What do I--? Fun!?” 

She snickered to herself as she tried to think of the last time she had ‘fun’ that didn’t involve a heist or the Joker. 

“I used to be a gymnast, that was fun.” 

Surprisingly, her answer came from a place of truth. While she did it for fun as a kid, a gymnastics scholarship was how she made her way through med school. 

“And I was damn good at it too,” she added with a boastful laugh. 

Dick was genuinely surprised by that answer, being an ex-gymnast wasn’t a factoid in any of Bruce’s files. 

“I was-- I worked in a circus as an acrobat,” He offered as a way to connect, hopefully without spilling too many truthful details. “I did it for a while, but not in Gotham of course.” 

Now that was a lie, but he had to cover himself in case-- well, he didn’t know exactly how Harley would be able to connect that piece of information to his identity, but he knew better than to take chances. The importance of a concealed identity was one of Bruce’s first lessons. 

“Ah, so that’s why you’re so comfy in a leotard.” She teased him with a goofy smile as she looked back over her shoulder. 

Dick’s cheeks immediately flushed, whether in embarrassment or anger that it wasn’t in fact a leotard-- who’s to say?

Any tensions that the playful banter may have eased immediately rushed back as the penultimate room of the tunnel came into view. This was where Harley had made their  _ love nest _ , the first place they had on their own after she broke him out of Arkham all those years ago. 

While there wasn’t much light in this room itself, the moonlight pouring in from the end of the tunnel provided the kind of eerie illumination that didn’t do much to help you see, but really did make the shadows look awfully creepy. Pasted on top of the rundown wallpaper, were assorted playing cards. You could only barely make out the images, but it was easy to assume that most of them were Jokers, of course. Then there was a workman’s bench, that seemed to have been pulled from a back room or something. Harley dug it out as an attempt to make a desk for Mistah J, there were even still papers scattered atop it; surely just holding failed plans for their attempts to capture the Batman and take over Gotham City. 

On the opposite side of the track was a makeshift bed, it was mostly just a big pile of those quilted sheets workers use so they don’t scrape furniture as they move it around. Next to that was a pipe that Harley had rigged to act as her closet, with various garments in her signature red and black hanging from it. Even in a hovel like this good ol’ Harley Quinn wouldn’t be caught dead in the same outfit for weeks on end. 

 

This closet was Harley’s ultimate destination, the quest being to find a change of clothes from the demeaning and destroyed harlequin outfit. 

Dick watched with a curious expression as she tossed her hammer on the ‘mattress’ then turned to the ‘closet’ and, without warning, began to undress. His cheeks flushed bright red for the second time in ten minutes, and he quickly turned to face the opposite direction, “Uh… Should I, uhm, go?” 

Harley laughed at his question, but not in her usual obnoxious-yet-charming way--rather, this laugh was far more seductive. “What? Does seeing a looney in her tightey-whitey’s make you uncomfortable?” she cooed as she filtered through her options whilst standing in just a bra and panties. 

“N-no,” Dick assured her, as flustered as he was. “I just don’t think it’d be right for me to like  _ watch _ , you know?” He then took a risky peek over his shoulder, one that turned more risk-ay as he saw Harley bend down to retrieve something from off the floor. While he managed to turn back around before his face could go even more red, he was thankful in that moment that Harley didn’t have a mask with a heartbeat reader-- and while Harley did notice the peek, she decided with a knowing smirk to let it go assumedly unnoticed. 

“So, what  _ exactly  _ did we come in here for anyway?” Dick asked as he focused all his efforts on staring at the individual playing cards cast about the floor around him. 

“We are here,” Harley began as she lay out her chosen garments on the bed. “To give the newly emancipated Harley Quinn a  _ fantabulous  _ new look.” 

She almost squealed with excitement as she took a step back and looked at the outfit assembled before her. Then, donning a quizzical expression, she picked up the bomber jacket/corset combo and held it up for Nightwing to see, “You think these look good together?” 

With a grimace he turned back around to look, landing his eyes on the red-and-black mass for a mere moment before finding anything else to focus on. “Yeah sure, but uh, why _ exactly _ do you need a new look?” He then gave up trying to appear unbothered and simply sat down next to the pile left on the bed. “You and the Joker aren’t like… broken up, are you?”

Harley scoffed at that reply, then tossed him the jacket and began to put on the corset. 

“Did you not see the tumble I took out of  _ my _ moving vehicle? Did you think that was intentional?” Harley didn’t wait for a reply, as the questions were rhetorical anyway.

She then took a pair of shorts from off the bed and quickly slipped them on. Though to be frank, the shorts looked more like a second pair of underwear than actual shorts, considering how much skin was exposed. She then held her hand out to Nightwing, silently asking for the jacket she had so nicely thrown to him moments before. 

Nightwing cocked an eyebrow, but handed it to her without a word. He wasn’t exactly sure what to make of this ‘newly emancipated Harley Quinn.’ While the relationship between Joker and Harley was surely a bad one, it was hard to imagine one without the other. Of course, she was dangerous with the Joker, but it was almost as if he stabilized her by keeping her to the sidelines. At least that’s how it seemed to the vigilantes like Nightwing and Batman. 

Life was so much easier when the bad guys teamed up and could all be caught at once. 


End file.
